Nov 7, 2012

For half of the country, they woke up this morning with an undeniable urge to do nothing. For the last 18 months they had their minds made up that the other guy - the one that there wasn't a chance in fucking hell that they were gonna vote for - was a shithead who either was already ruining the great nation that they lived in or a shithead that was going to come into the presidency and ruin the great nation that they lived in. For half of the United States of America this morning, they're waking up to soggy ass corn flakes, weak ass coffee, a desk piled high with a bunch of boring ass shit that they have to do at a job that doesn't pay them well enough, a bunch of ugly, whiny kids, a car that needs a new muffler, a beloved pet with cancer and a horrible pit in their stomach that makes them feel as if they're rotting from the inside out. The reality is that none of this is really anywhere near the truth. It just feels that way. It's just this: How are they going to face their friends whom they called idiots and dopes for voting for the other guy? How are they going to defend their choices with all of that egg running down their shamed faces? How is anything going to go on? How are we not all in the first day of a series of days that are leading us all into the crapper?

The only recipe to overcoming this feeling, for the fifty-percent of the population that feels down in the dumps this morning and likely for the next four years - because that's just the way that people hold grudges - is with a road trip. It will take a revitalizing ride around this country to bring you back to an emotional balance that you can try to live with. You're going to need this to cleanse and there might not be a better thing to listen to than Los Straitjackets. You're going to need to get out there with no agenda. You're going to probably need a motorcycle, something that another person - even one without any prior motorcycle knowledge - would call a chopper. You're going to need custom-fit blue jeans and you're going to need all of the facial hair that you can muster. You're just going to need that fresh air ripping across your cheeks. You're going to need to clear your head so here's your chance.

For half of the country, they woke up this morning with an undeniable urge to do nothing. For the last 18 months they had their minds made up that the other guy - the one that there wasn't a chance in fucking hell that they were gonna vote for - was a shithead who either was already ruining the great nation that they lived in or a shithead that was going to come into the presidency and ruin the great nation that they lived in. For half of the United States of America this morning, they're waking up to soggy ass corn flakes, weak ass coffee, a desk piled high with a bunch of boring ass shit that they have to do at a job that doesn't pay them well enough, a bunch of ugly, whiny kids, a car that needs a new muffler, a beloved pet with cancer and a horrible pit in their stomach that makes them feel as if they're rotting from the inside out. The reality is that none of this is really anywhere near the truth. It just feels that way. It's just this: How are they going to face their friends whom they called idiots and dopes for voting for the other guy? How are they going to defend their choices with all of that egg running down their shamed faces? How is anything going to go on? How are we not all in the first day of a series of days that are leading us all into the crapper?

The only recipe to overcoming this feeling, for the fifty-percent of the population that feels down in the dumps this morning and likely for the next four years - because that's just the way that people hold grudges - is with a road trip. It will take a revitalizing ride around this country to bring you back to an emotional balance that you can try to live with. You're going to need this to cleanse and there might not be a better thing to listen to than Los Straitjackets. You're going to need to get out there with no agenda. You're going to probably need a motorcycle, something that another person - even one without any prior motorcycle knowledge - would call a chopper. You're going to need custom-fit blue jeans and you're going to need all of the facial hair that you can muster. You're just going to need that fresh air ripping across your cheeks. You're going to need to clear your head so here's your chance.